


ferns, they will bend

by silpium



Series: inktober 2017 [15]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, can be read as romo or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silpium/pseuds/silpium
Summary: They’re always peculiar dreams, full of sensations and sights he can’t make sense of. The wind gusting through him, the sun beating into his skin, cold sweeping into his very bones, a deep, deep pit in his stomach. They’re all mundane memories, yet there’s a certainsomethingto them that sets them apart.Kageyama feels nostalgic for these dreams. They strike a chord within him like childhood memories long-forgotten, an exhumed treasure.Of past lives and rediscovering what's been lost.





	ferns, they will bend

**Author's Note:**

> for inktober day #15, "mysterious."

The forest behind Kageyama’s cabin always teems with frost. Whenever he ventures into the forest, even during the depths of summer, Kageyama tastes the chill in every breath, feels the cold in every breeze. It’s a realm in and of itself, according to its own time, its own rules.

Kageyama spends a great deal of time in those woods. It’s not intentional; rather, he finds himself escaping back into the forest whenever he needs time to himself. It becomes a second home. The moss of the trees, the canopy of leaves, and the grass beneath his feet all cradle him as gently as snow.

Sometimes, he falls asleep and dreams. They’re always peculiar dreams, full of sensations and sights he can’t make sense of. The wind gusting through him, the sun beating into his skin, cold sweeping into his very bones, a deep, deep pit in his stomach. They’re all mundane memories, yet there’s a certain _something_ to them that sets them apart.

Kageyama feels nostalgic for these dreams. They strike a chord within him like childhood memories long-forgotten, an exhumed treasure. The forest becomes ever more precious to him.

There’s a legend that plays in his head every time he enters it. One handed down from generation to generation, one so ingrained in him that he can’t even remember his mother telling it to him as a child. It tells of two boys, one with hair of fire and the other with hair of midnight, barely sixteen. They were reliant on the woods for survival, for food, water, medicinal herbs, their very livelihoods. 

Over time, the two had forged a bond through mutual necessity that grew into something like friendship. But the woods hold danger. The boy of midnight came down with some unknown ailment that turned his skin ice-cold and bitterly pale, churned his stomach so he couldn’t keep down anything he ate.

There were stories of a field deep in the woods that held glistening, light-shedding white flowers. Sipping the dew from their petals would cure any disease. The boy of red delved deep, deep into the woods to search for these moon-white flowers, and he never returned. Some say the field of flowers wasn’t meant for mortals, and when he came upon it, the forest took his spirit as one of their owns; and others say he never came upon the field at all. The boy of red left without a word, and the boy of midnight passed without knowing what task the boy of red undertook for him.

Kageyama wonders if the boy of midnight would have ever let the other do that for him.

/ * \

The forest becomes livelier during the summer. Even then, it still has that welcoming chill to it. Rabbits will scurry alongside him, birds seem to sing towards him, and the moss tickles him as though in acknowledgement.

His dream is stranger than usual, that day. Instead of disjointed, everyday senses that feel like memories, he hears a voice. He can’t quite make out what it’s saying, like it’s behind a cloak of dense fog, but it speaks insistently towards him. He wants to reach back out to it, because it sounds familiar—Kageyama’s very core yearns for it. Yet there’s this staunch wall between him and it, and he just _can’t_.

He wakes up, suddenly. Before him is a shadow of light. He startles, pushing back up against the tree he was resting on, watching the being twinkle in the dusting rays of sunlight, and watches it materialize slowly but surely.

 _Don’t you ever trust those spirits of the forest, Tobio,_ he remembers his mother telling him. _They’re full of nothing but tricks and mischief._ Kageyama swallows thickly. Spirits never deign to interact with humans, and certainly have never approached him before.

The spirit before him comes to be. The first thing Kageyama notices is the way the grey of his hair merges with the dull surroundings of the forest. “Kageyama,” he starts, and _never, ever let them know your real name; you’ll be bound to the forest as soon as they learn it_ rings in his mind. “Do you remember anything?”

Something tickles at the back of Kageyama’s mind, something from ages and ages ago. He feels a deathly cold emanating from every nerve in his body, threatening to freeze him to the core. His stomach _wrenches_.

He remembers red: vibrant, vibrant red, and a smile that made the darkest part of the forest seem brighter than a meadow in the height of summer.

“Hinata,” he breathes, and the being before him seems pleased.

/ * \

Kageyama is able to leave the forest that night. Not that he really wants to. There’s a calm settling in his chest that feels like an long-lost part of him has finally, finally been found. When he sleeps that night, he dreams of red.

The next morning, dawn spreads across the forest, in pinks and light blues that pale before the richness of color in the memories Kageyama’s uncovered. The forest stands behind his house, beckoning.

He’s barely a few steps in when there’s a burst of light before him. Kageyama’s heart quivers. The light, fiery red, dispenses all around him, the squirrels and mice staring in awe.

Hinata stands before him, or, rather, floats above the earth. Kageyama’s heart goes still. They watch one another for a moment, and Hinata breathes out slowly. “I missed you, stupid,” he tells Kageyama. “I’m glad—I’m glad I didn’t fail, not really.”

“I couldn’t let you off without telling you how much of a dumbass you were for running off and _dying_ for me,” Kageyama scoffs. “Idiot.”

Hinata’s lips quirk into a smile as though instinctively. “It’s not so bad like this.” He holds out his hand for Kageyama to take. Even though Hinata should be ephemeral, his hand is heavy in Kageyama’s own, and with a warmth that tingles. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Kageyama follows him. His choice settles deep in the forest, and the wind gusting through him feels as though it’s carrying away the burdens of his outside life.

He doesn't look back as the trees bow over the entrance.

**Author's Note:**

> credit to my sweetheart [robin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferTM/pseuds/luciferTM) for betaing!
> 
> thank you very much for reading! please feel free to comment with concrit or otherwise—i appreciate it a bunch! ;v;
> 
> i'm on twitter [@hhatsunetsu](https://twitter.com/hhatsunetsu) if you'd like to hmu!


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